Saint
by Helencrazy
Summary: Rachel makes it to New York, and is about to start on the adventure of her life. What she doesn't know is how the arrival of Quinn Fabray, will change the way she lives forever. Cause Quinn brought a friend, a friend that will turn Rachel's life upside down. Will eventually be M. Slow-burn St. Berry.
1. Chapter 1

Rachel didn't know if she'd ever had butterflies this insistent in her stomach before.

The summer was drawing to a close, and she and Kurt had finally finished decorating their new, New York apartment. Just the thought of moving in permanently, with her best friend, in the city of her dreams, attending the school of her dreams, was enough to make her jump around like an excited puppy. Her dads laughed it off in good spirit, but she was sure they were ready to get her out of Lima too, no matter how bittersweet they pretended for it to be. She felt on top of the world. Like nothing could go wrong.

That is, until one Quinn Fabray called her up, crying at 4 am the day before Rachel's flight to New York. She surveyed the dark room as she was abruptly awaken by the shrill noise of her ringtone, and scurried out of bed. She stubbed her toe something awfully on her way to her beauty stand, where she had left her phone the night before.

"Hello?" she hissed, jumping on her non-injured foot and holding the other tightly to try and dull the throbbing.

"Rachel?" she heard a soft voice speak, followed by a heartbreaking sniffling.

"Quinn? Is that you?" Rachel finally let her other foot down, pushing her pain aside to focus on her obviously upset friend.

"Ye-yeah. I'm sorry if I woke you up," Quinn responded.

"No, no, no, it's fine. I have to get up in," Rachel glanced to the clock on her nightstand, "an hour, anyway."

"Okay, good. So uhm…" Quinn was obviously struggling with was she wanted to say, "I'm in New York."

"You're in New York?" Rachel frowned, "why?"

"I got into NYADA," Quinn said, nearly whispering.

Rachel was stunned. Quinn? New York? NYADA? Her NYADA? That couldn't be. She didn't even know Quinn had applied for NYADA. And why would she? She didn't care about arts nearly as much as Kurt and herself did. It seemed odd. Yet she figured she needed to be happy for her… friend? She was still unsure of the current relationship between the blonde and her. Things seemed good, but Quinn was unpredictable.

"Oh my god, Quinn! That's amazing!" Rachel nearly shouted, before remembering that her dads were still asleep in the other room, "but, why are you upset? And why are you calling me at this hour?"

"So, uhm, my mom got me an apartment on campus, but turns out it was rented out to someone else because of a mishap. So now I have nowhere to go," Quinn explained, sniffling once more.

"Oh god, Quinn, that's awful," Rachel was awake enough to tell where this was going, why else would Quinn be calling her of all people?

"And I know you and Kurt have that apartment…" Quinn seemed hesitant to ask what Rachel knew she wanted to ask.

"Look, I'll text you the address and call the landlord to let him know he can let you in," Rachel said patiently, her heart aching for her friend, "me and Kurt are flying in tomorrow, so we can figure something out then. Sound good?"

"Thank you so, so much Rachel!" Quinn hiccupped, "I owe you one."

"Yeah, you sure do," Rachel laughed, "see you tomorrow Quinn."

She hung up, and chuckled to herself. Lord knew it was impossible for her to just have one good thing, without any complications. Not that having Quinn staying for a bit would be an issue, but she wasn't sure if Kurt would agree to it. She didn't look forward to telling him in the morning, and could do no more than cross her fingers that he'd be okay with it.

By the time she had called the landlord and explained the whole ordeal, it was 4:45, and her alarm would go of in fifteen minutes anyways. So, she decided, why not wake her dads up one more time, before she'd be on her way to fulfill her dreams?

* * *

As expected, Kurt wasn't exactly thrilled. He had been hoping to arrive in their apartment and kick his feet up with a nice, cold virgin margarita (the ingredients for which had been bought on their last visit to the city – conveniently also the only thing in their fridge). But he obviously wasn't completely heartless, and he could see why Rachel acted as she did. He didn't tell her that Quinn could have just found a motel, or a cozy alley, as she had expected. No, the more he thought about it, the more excited he seemed to be about the fact that a fellow glee friend would be going to NYADA with them, and if that meant they had to help her find her footing again, so be it. Rachel had noticed how Kurt and Quinn had seemed to have formed a peculiar friendship during their last months of high school. They had connected over frustrations with her, which she had to admit, wasn't exactly ideal, but had also found a sense of understanding within each other. For that, she was grateful. She knew well enough that Kurt had resented Quinn for a long time, as had she. God, how they had grown in such short time.

Kurt and Rachel said their tearful goodbyes with their parents and those few friends that hadn't left Lima yet (Sam, Blaine, Tina and Puck). Kurt and Blaine had broken up a while back, after they had both realized how toxic their relationship could be. Besides, Blaine didn't want to hold Kurt back, and Kurt respected that choice.

So, the duo got on their plane, content with the future that lay ahead of them, unaware of how different it would turn out to be, thanks to a certain blonde waiting in their future home.

* * *

When they finally arrived, tired and worn out from a day's worth of travel (their plane had been delayed and they had been forced to spent an extra 4 hours playing tic tac toe in the airport), Quinn was sleeping on the designer couch Kurt had picked out for their living room. At the foot of the couch stood two suitcases, which Rachel assumed contained Quinn's belongings. Rachel checked her watch, only to find that it was 7:56 pm. A tad early to be asleep, she figured, but then again, it was very likely that Quinn was emotionally exhausted. Arriving in a city like this, with no place to be, was sure to take a toll on you.

Kurt put his bags in his fully furnished room before returning to her side, watching the sleeping blonde.

"Should we wake her up?" Rachel whispered. Kurt shrugged.

"Seems creepy to just watch her, so I guess we probably should," he replied, uncertain.

"I kind of don't want to," Rachel admitted.

"Me neither. That's means we have to deal with it," Kurt sighed.

"I know. It sucks," Rachel crossed her arms, "you do it."

"What? Why me?" Kurt recoiled, looking offended.

"Cause," Rachel paused, thinking of an argument, "I was the one she woke up at four in the morning. So it's your turn to suffer."

"Hey, no," Kurt pointed at her to get his point across, "SHE woke you up, it's only fair YOU wake her up!"

"How about you both wake me up and you're both acting stupid?" Quinn groaned from the couch, stretching her arms as she looked at them pointedly.

"Oh. Hi Quinn," Rachel laughed sheepishly, "good morning, I guess."

Quinn rolled her eyes and sat up, walking to the kitchen, where she immediately started up the coffee maker, as if she had done it a thousand times before. Rachel and Kurt shared a look, both concerned with how at home the girl already seemed. This could become an issue.

"Look, Quinn," Kurt started, growing smaller as Quinn stared at him, "I know Rachel said you could stay for a while and all, but have you even looked at other options today?"

Quinn raised a brow at him, as she proceeded to pour coffee for all of them. Rachel didn't even remember buying coffee. Something told her they hadn't. Quinn took her sweet time as she sipped the steaming hot coffee slowly, unfazed by the scalding heat. The tension in the room seemed palpable.

"No, Kurt, I haven't gotten around to it yet. I was too consumed with being completely lost because the apartment I was supposed to be in right now apparently isn't mine, and I spent all of last night walking the streets, being groped and catcalled by all kinds of dirty bastards," Quinn said coolly, "so excuse me for not being in the mood to try again just yet."

Kurt fidgeted, looked to the ground and muttered a quick "sorry", before retreating to his room. He grabbed his cup of coffee on the way, shooting Quinn a look that was somehow thankful, apologetic and hurt all at the same time. Rachel could barely hold back her laughter. She grabbed her cup of coffee and led Quinn back to the couch, where the two sat down, drinking in silence.

"So," Rachel mused, "NYADA?"

"Yeah," Quinn nodded, "I'll major in theatrical dance, and minor in singing."

"Why didn't you tell anyone you were applying to NYADA? I mean, you knew Kurt and I were going to be there."

"I don't know. I guess I didn't think I'd get in. I mean, I know I'm not halfway as good as you guys," she shrugged, "I got lucky. And I didn't want anyone to know in case it didn't work out."

"I see," Rachel nodded in understanding. Quinn had always tried to hide how insecure she actually was, so it all made sense.

"Thanks for letting me stay," Quinn said quietly, "I know it's not what you hoped for, coming to New York and me being here, in your way."

"Oh, come on. It's no big deal Quinn," Rachel placed a hand around the blonde's shoulder, pulling her into a half hug, "we gleeks need to help each other out."


	2. Chapter 2

"We gleeks need to help each other out."

It's a sentence Rachel soon comes to regret ever uttering.

It all starts a week after their arrival in New York City. Quinn has made no effort to find somewhere else to live, and has been sleeping on Rachel and Kurt's couch ever since that first night. Kurt hasn't bothered her about it, too scared of the wrath that might strike down upon him should he make an attempt. Rachel is actually enjoying Quinn's company, so she doesn't say anything. Besides, Quinn's been acting like a proper houseguest so far. She's pitched in when it comes to grocery, she's even cooked twice. Most surprisingly, she promised she'd pay a share of the rent if they needed her to.

Rachel is on her way home from a trip to the grocery store, after discovering, much too her dismay, that _someone_ has been drinking all her expensive herbal tea. That might be one disadvantage of having the stubborn blonde living with them – she has no real respect for personal space, or personal belongings. But, as Rachel was always taught, no one is perfect.

It's what she sees when she slides open the heavy loft door that makes her reconsider for the first time.

The volume on the TV is turned all the way up, tuned to some kind of documentary on animal planet. Quinn is on the couch as usual. Except, this time she's not alone. Beneath her lies what very much looks like a human male. And if Rachel isn't mistaken, said human male seems to have his hand placed in a very specific spot beneath Quinn's shirt. Said human male has his lips fused with Quinn's, and Rachel is stunned. The only thought she can piece together is how thankful she is that Quinn is respectful enough not to be doing _it_ in her or Kurt's bed. The pair is moving together, obviously on the way to a position much more compromising, and in the heat of the moment, none of them spots Rachel. At least it doesn't seem so at first. But then aforementioned human male is looking directly into her eyes, smirking against the blonde's lips as the hand that isn't currently groping her friend squeezes her ass – well, that probably does constitute as groping, but to Rachel it seems more like an attempt at provocation. And it works.

She lets out a loud shriek, that almost sounds like "Quinn!", but then again also sounds like something akin to a pig being dragged around by its tail.

Quinn immediately pushes away from the male, now perched upon his crotch. It doesn't seem like a less compromising position, but at least the human male has the decency to retract his hand from her breast. What a gentleman. Quinn is sufficiently embarrassed for Rachel to assume that she hadn't intended for anyone to discover her like this. Not that it changes things. Quinn takes a moment to compose herself, her face flush and her breath ragged.

"Hi Rachel," she sounds surprisingly casual, and the human male lets out a brief laugh.

"Hi Quinn," Rachel has finally regained her composure, at least a little bit, "so uh, who's your "friend"?"

"Rachel, this is Jesse," Quinn points from him to Rachel, "Jesse, this is Rachel. She owns the place."

Jesse responds with nothing but a brief nod, seemingly more interested in returning to his previous task. Both his hands are now on Quinn's bottom, and it seems as if Quinn too, is more interested in what she is currently sitting atop, than what Rachel has to say about the situation.

"Nice to meet you Jesse," Rachel says. Even if he appears to be a rude specimen, she won't sink to his level. Quinn is already leaning down towards his lips again, and it seems as if that's enough of Rachel's interruption.

"Do you mind?" Jesse turns his head towards her, his eyes motioning towards Quinn and then back to her, and Rachel takes it as a very clear message that he would much prefer if she would get out of their hair. She stomps angrily, offended by his behavior. Really? That attitude? In her home? Quinn really needs to get better taste in men. Rachel marches indignantly to her room, and as she hears a zipper open and Quinn moan, she wishes her and Kurt has invested in doors instead of those stupid bead curtains.

* * *

Kurt has been gone all day, job hunting. School starts tomorrow, and he is adamant on finding a part time job, so he at least has some kind of steady income. Rachel is surviving on the hefty allowance her dads send her every month. Right now she's just wishing Kurt would come home. It's been hours, and she's been holed up in her room this whole time, trying to drown out the sounds coming from the living room with the soundtrack of Hamilton. But all it serves her is that she suddenly imagines the sounds to the rhythm of the songs, and it makes at all the more obvious what's going on in the next room.

Finally, the sounds stop. She hears Quinn laugh, but honestly has a hard time imagining this Jesse guy being any kind of funny. She can't help but wonder where Quinn found him. He looked older than her, maybe even 21. Yet he seemed to have soft features, not at all matching his rough demeanor. Rachel waits a few minutes, listening to see if the noises return. Nothing. She dares move from her bed, and towards the beads separating her from the living room. She's really craving something to eat, not having been satisfied by the three Reese's cups she'd found in the bottom of her purse and stuffed in her mouth in an act of desperation.

She dares move beyond the beads, only to find Quinn gone, and Jesse standing in the kitchen. Her mind goes blank. The man is shirtless. His back is to her, and she counts herself lucky that he can't see the blush spreading from her chest to her entire face – even her ears feel hot. He's all silky pale skin, freckles and defined muscles. Rachel unconsciously licks her lips, as she swallows tightly. He turns around, but doesn't seem to have seen her. He's holding a cup of coffee, seemingly not caring enough to survey his surroundings. The sight of his front almost makes Rachel recoil.

His jeans hang low on his waist, and she can see just the slightest bit of pubic hair trailing up his tight stomach towards his navel. And oh, god, if he hasn't got Rachel's favorite feature. The v. He is built like a dancer. Slim and graceful, muscles defined in the most beautiful way, and nothing out of proportion. His chest is big, impressive, and he has the arms to match. He could probably lift her with no trouble. On his left wrist there appears to be a tiny tattoo, but Rachel is to far away to make out what it's supposed to be.

Rachel shakes her head, willing herself out of her stupor. Jesus Christ, she needs to remember how big of a douche he was to her, and stop her train of thought right now. Besides, him and Quinn seem to be together, if the past couple hours are anything to judge by.

Speak of the devil – Quinn comes walking out of the bathroom, her gait a little unusual. Like something is preventing her from walking properly. Rachel doesn't want to think further into that observation. Much like Jesse, Quinn doesn't notice her either. She breezes right past her, to where Jesse is waiting for her with a cup of coffee. He passes it over, and Quinn takes it without a word.

"So, Rachel?" Jesse speaks, and Rachel's eyes widen, thinking she's been caught staring.

"What about Rachel?" Quinn asks.

"What's her deal?" Jesse replies, sipping his coffee. Rachel sighs in relief, thinking she's safe for now. Quinn shrugs.

"Known her all of high school. She's a nice girl," she says, and it makes Rachel smile, "although something tells me she's not going to be happy about today."

Jesse shrugs, as if he doesn't actually care. To be fair, he probably doesn't. He then sets down his cup, and heads for the couch. He picks up his t-shirt, pulling it over his head roughly.

"Okay, see you tomorrow," he says, slipping his feet into a pair of army boots. He doesn't bother tying them.

"See ya," Quinn nods.

With that, he's gone. Not a kiss goodbye, not a hug, nothing. He barely even looked at Quinn.

"What's his deal?" Rachel scoffs, accidentally thinking out loud. Quinn turns to her, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

"Rachel!" she squeaks, surprised to see her standing there, "how long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough," Rachel crosses her arms and raises a brow at the blonde, "so. Who is that guy?"


	3. Chapter 3

"So. Who is that guy?"

Rachel had her arms crossed, her stance defiant. Quinn had the decency to look sheepish. After all, she had just been the reason Rachel was near starving in her room, afraid to come out and risk seeing the blonde doing unspeakable things.

"He's a friend," Quinn shrugged, seemingly unsure of how to explain herself.

"A friend?" Rachel scoffed, "you sure did seem quite friendly."

Contrary to popular belief, Rachel wasn't a prude. She just didn't want to be faced with other peoples' sex life, because it forced her to face her own lack of such. Not that she was complaining, she actually felt a sense of quiet accomplishment in having kept something so special to her safe for so long. Yes, she was a virgin. Yes, she was waiting for the right person. She doesn't judge Quinn for getting some, she's really just upset she had to go and get it on _her_ couch.

"Well, I mean, it really didn't mean anything," Quinn shrugs, sipping from the coffee cup in her hand, "it's not like we're going to start dating or something."

"Good, he doesn't seem like the kind of guy someone would want to date," Rachel chuckles dryly.

"I'm sorry, okay?" Quinn sighs, her face showing signs of regrets, which does calm Rachel down a tad, "he was in a mood today. It was angry sex. We really are just friends. But seriously, did you see the guy? Don't tell me you wouldn't tap that."

"I guess he was attractive when he didn't speak," Rachel blushes, looking to the ground, before turning serious once more, "is he going to come around again?"

"Probably," Quinn says, "he really is a good guy. He's just a little… intense."

"Mhm," Rachel snorts with laughter, "if he really is going to be around more often, at least teach him some manners. And, I would like if you guys went to his place whenever you do… you know what."

"Deal."

* * *

Kurt finally comes home, and when Quinn tells them she's going out, Rachel jumps at the chance to tell him all about what she's been through that day.

"I'm telling you Kurt! He was all up on her, like an animal," she shakes her head in disgust, "if I had walked in a few minutes later I'm sure I'd have seen some of his anatomy that I don't ever want to see! Why, I already have! He was in our kitchen Kurt, nearly naked!"

Kurt is laughing, and Rachel is slightly offended that he finds her suffering so humorous. She truly considers herself to have been traumatized.

"Good lord Rachel, it's just a penis," Kurt laughs, gasping for air. He's clutching his stomach and laughs even harder when he sees the look of disgrace on Rachel's face.

" _Just_ a penis Kurt? Really?" she bites, "I really have no desire to see any parts of that sleazebag. And his behavior! God Kurt, he was so damn rude!"

Kurt is clearly taken back by her use of something akin to profanity, and it makes him sober up slightly. He wipes a tear from beneath his eye and stifles a grin. He sums up the most serious expression he can manage in the situation – which is pretty much a half-smile and a very uncomfortable eye twitch.

"Oh come on Rachel, any guy would be rude if you interrupted them in getting their groove on," Kurt tries to reason with her, but backs down upon seeing the offended expression on her face, "maybe he'll be okay if you see him under different circumstances. Like, if he hangs out with all of us. I mean, if he's Quinn's friend, maybe he could be our friend too. Lord knows we need to make some friends in this city."

"I guess you're right," Rachel sighs, and stomps her foot in anger, "damn it. I'll ask Quinn to ask him over for a movie night."

"There you go, great progress," Kurt grins, shooting her a thumbs up.

* * *

Rachel has no idea when Quinn comes home that night. She just knows that when she gets up at 6 to prepare for school, she finds that Quinn is passed out on the couch, wearing the same clothes she had left in the night before. Rachel shook her head disapprovingly. She had probably been out with Jesse. That's when she noticed that Quinn's shirt was on inside out. Yep, she'd definitely been out with Jesse. She scoffed. "Friends".

She made an extra cup of coffee for the blonde, well aware that she too, would be going to NYADA for the first time that day. Kurt was in the bathroom, trying to get his hair just perfect. After all, he was newly single, and first impressions were everything. And lord knows the boy needed to get some. He was still hung up on Blaine, although he would never admit it. Blaine was his first love, and those were hard to get over. Not that Rachel would know. She was pretty sure she had yet to experience hers. Sure, she had liked Finn, but the boy had always lacked something. And their relationship had never quite been ideal. Truth be told, he just didn't get her.

The coffee machine beeped to indicate it was finished, and Rachel grabbed both cups before heading to the couch. Quinn stirred in her sleep, and turned so her face was facing the TV. Her lipstick was smeared, and her hair tousled. For her sake, Rachel hoped she hadn't gotten any makeup on Kurt's beloved couch. God knows the boy would kill her if she had. She sat down on the edge of their coffee table, placing one of the cups down beside her. She gave the blonde a gentle shove.

"Hey, Quinn," she said softly, "wake up."

Quinn merely groans in response, slapping Rachel's hand away. Rachel chuckles.

"It's our first day Quinn, show some enthusiasm," she encourages the blonde, once more giving her shoulder a gentle push.

"God, Berry, just leave me to wail in my misery," Quinn cries out, covering her face with a nearby throw pillow.

"Not going to happen Fabray," Rachel clicks her tongue, grabbing the pillow from Quinn, "you're going to get up, and you're going to get ready. Unless you want me to have Kurt sing showtunes at you until you get your butt off the couch."

"Jesus, the years have made you mean," Quinn grumbles, scooting a bit so she can get into a sitting position. Her eyes are bloodshot and her face is pale. She's obviously hungover.

"That reminds me," Rachel says, fidgeting with the hem of her sweater, "Kurt and I agreed that if Jesse is going to be your friend, maybe he could be ours to. So why don't you invite him over to watch some movies with us tonight?"

"Really?" Quinn raises her brow, and Rachel nods, "alright, I'll text him. I bet you he'll say no though."

"It's worth a try," Rachel shrugs. She's not sure if she even wants him to say yes.

Quinn digs her phone out from a pocket that Rachel can't seem to locate, and she starts typing away. A few seconds later her phone vibrates in her hand, and the Kim Possible text-message alert rings through the room. Rachel stifles a laugh at Quinn's pointed look. She doesn't comment though - she knows better than that. Quinn laughs and shoves the phone in Rachel's face, allowing her to read Jesse's response.

J: _Movie night with you and that brunette chick? Are you trying to lure me into a threesome?_

Rachel gasps, and shoves the phone back at Quinn. She is outraged. The nerve of this guy. How dare he think something so vulgar about her, of all people? Who gave him the right? No one, that's who. Now she knows for sure that she wants him to say no. She really regrets letting Kurt even talk her into this. Quinn shoots a text back to Jesse, and when he responds again, she shows her phone to Rachel once more.

J: _Well, if you say so. As long as we're not going to watch something stupid like Funny Girl or Moulin Rouge._

That definitely doesn't help the situation. But it is an agreement to come watch movies with them, and it is far too late to take back her invitation now. She's not sure if she's ever regretted something so much. And that's saying a lot. Lord knows she'd happily live the rest of her life without seeing that guy again.

Quinn finally gets up without a complaint, and digs out some clothes from her suitcase. She throws Kurt out of the bathroom so she can shower and change, and he spits profanities after her, as he goes to finish up by his bedroom mirror. Why he couldn't do that in the first place is beyond her, but that's Kurt. Always one to be impractical.

Her excitement to be going to her first classes is enough to push away the dread of having to spend the entire night with Jesse. At least he doesn't go to NYADA, right?


	4. Chapter 4

The campus was all Rachel had ever dreamed of. Of course, she'd been there before, her and Kurt had wasted no chance in scouting around the area before it would be crowded with new and old student. But now, this morning, it was so full of life, so vibrant. It took her breath away. Everyone who walked onto the school grounds walked with a sense of purpose, except for the occasional group of freshmen, some of whom Rachel was convinced never even seen the place.

Kurt had his arm interlocked with her, and the pair strode comfortably towards the entrance of their building, passing through the crowd, aided along by the occasional push of an elbow or step on a heel. Quinn was a few steps ahead of them, somehow managing to get by without anyone so much as breathing close to her. Maybe some part of her was still that confident cheerleader that instilled fear in passers-by.

Rachel was actually impressed with herself – she had yet to burst into tears as a result of the emotional overload she was experiencing. No, she was – to the surprise of absolutely everyone – composed. Happy, mind you, but in that subdued way that normal people are happy. Not people like Rachel Berry.

She and Kurt stepped inside the building, and turned to each other, completely ignoring the angry shouts and pushes they received for having stopped just ahead of the doorway.

"We made it," Rachel breathed, beaming at the boy.

"We finally made it," Kurt nodded, eyes shimmering with unshed tears of joy.

"Let's promise each other something," Rachel said seriously.

"What?"

"Nothing is going to ruin this year. We are going to go through it, successful, happy, and maybe even find new love," Rachel stared into Kurt's eyes, as the boy nodded solemnly, "but no matter what. It's us. And _no one_ and _nothing_ will come between us."

"I promise," Kurt said, spitting in his hand and holding it out for her to shake. She spat in hers, ignoring the looks of people passing by them, and shook his hand with fervor.

They returned their walk, hand in hand, admiring the architecture and the rows upon rows of pictures of successful alumni. Rachel hoped she'd be up there one day. She saw plenty of people she recognized, both from past and present Broadway hits. She was honored just to think that she was walking the halls they had walked, about to attend the classes they had attended. Maybe even have some of the same teachers. Boy, was she excited to learn all that she could from these people. Her heart was pounding at a dangerous rate, and she willed herself to take some deep breaths to try and calm it down before she entered the heart attack zone. Beside her she felt Kurt do the same. She was thrilled to have someone as passionate as her to share this moment, this entire experience with. No matter what Kurt and her might have disagreed on in the past, this was something they had always agreed on. They would conquer the theatrical world. Hand in hand.

That being said, they eventually have to part. Their schedules are different. Kurt has Broadway history first, Rachel has dance, with the school's most notorious teacher – Cassandra July. But Rachel refuses to be intimidated by her. Nothing can ruin this day for her. Nothing.

* * *

So, Rachel might have said that a bit too soon.

Cassandra July is the reincarnation of the devil.

God, why did Rachel ever agree to this class?

Her knee isn't supposed to bend that way.

These are a few of the thoughts going through Rachel's brain as she experiences Cassandra July for the first time. The woman is attractive, in that "I will kill you and your family if you ever get in my way", kind of way. Cause that's the attitude she has. She has shouted at not only Rachel, but most of the class, at least 80 times, and they're only about half an hour into the lesson. Rachel is already sweating profusely, and can't help but wonder when she's ever going to play a part with this much dancing.

"God, you lot are useless," Mrs. July spits, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation, "stop, stop, _stop_!"

The whole class stops moving as she turns off the dance beat they've been practicing to. She looks frazzled, annoyed, and superior to all of them. Rachel pouts, but schools her features as a familiar figure steps into the room.

"You called for me?" the new arrival says, sounding bored. Mrs. July nods.

"Freshmeat, this is Jesse St. James," she says, introducing him, "he's a sophomore. And he is far more talented than most of you will ever be. Now, me and him will show you how it's done."

Rachel rolls her eyes. Of course it's him. Of course he goes to NYADA. Of course he is a superior grade a a-hole. She really hopes he messes up, but as he notices her and smirks, she can't help but think that he might actually be good. His confidence is convincing, yet also gives her the undeniable urge to kick him square in his privates. Mrs. July turns the music back on, and changes the song. It takes a few seconds before Rachel recognizes the melody.

Dancing with myself, Billy Idol.

The pair is moving around the floor, using the whole room as their bodies glide together. They seem inappropriately close, and their movements are far from PG. They're somehow fast paced and sensual at the same time, a combination Rachel never quite seemed to get.

She was right to think he was built like a dancer. He seems to be fluid, floating, and firm at the same time. He moves flawlessly, and for a second Rachel forgets just how unhappy she is to see him. She sees his lips forming the words of the song, right until he looks at her and winks. She frowns. Douchebag.

The song comes to an end, and Jessie holds Cassandra tight as they come to a sudden stop. The teacher leans up and whispers something in his ear, inaudible to the rest of the class. Judging from the smirk that forms on Jesse's lips, Rachel assumes it's probably for the best.

Cassandra pushes him away by the shoulders, keeping him an armlength away. She shoots a patronizing smile to her students, and puts her hands behind her back as she struts to the middle of the road.

"And that, freshmeat, is how you do it."


End file.
